November 2005

November 30, 2005

Sat with Mabel tonight and watched "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer." It was great. Burl Ives, all the amazing songs, "Yukon Cornelius," the Abominable Snow Monster, Herbie the elf-dentist, the Island of Misfit Toys, etc...

I hadn't watched the whole thing in several years. I had forgotten how much of the story was about the "misfits. I was surprised about all that Rudolph's father did to try and hide his son's "non-conformity." While I don't think that Rudolph was primarily designed as a commentary about how society treats the "outsiders," still it made you think.

Or at least it made me think. About how my kids relate to their "misfit" sister, and others at school or church or just around who don't quite measure up to the standard. From the book of Mark, 10:31 - "...This is once again the Great Reversal: Many who are first will end up last, and the last first."

I certainly did not sit down to watch Rudolph looking for a theological treatise, just a little holiday levity...Oh well, Frosty's gotta be coming on sometime soon. Surely there's nothing deeper than Global Warming on that show.

November 29, 2005

When I read stories like this, I am reminded of the day we left the hospital with our newborn, first born Suzie.

As we loaded the stuff on the cart to take it to the car, I joked with the nurse,

"Doesn't it make you want to cry to see people like us, with our first child, leaving the hospital, mostly clueless about what to do?"

And she replied with something to the effect of,

"No, you guys seem pretty OK. It's the babies leaving here with people who's sole qualification and training, and quite frankly interest, in being parents was the one passionate night they spent together nine long forgotten months ago. Those are the babies that I cry for."

We as the church, and as a society, are programed to saying "that's bad, that's wrong, and (with a shriveled up forehead and look-down-your-nose) tssk...tssk...tssk."

Fussing never fixes anything. Freedom fixes things. We (read I) need to work hard to think my best, most creatively, most everything. It is not enough to "tssk...tssk...tssk." We must think, think, think and trust, trust, trust.

God has wired us to make a mark, to stick a flag in the sand, and say "This is what we believe, this is what is true, this is what is right and what is good." Not to merely be the Chicken Little's about the falling sky.

See especially the note down in the story about the "idea (of the 18-year-old proposing to the 17-year-old) came from Tina Curtis, Justin's mother. .."He just comes flying through the door and says, 'Mom, I've gotta find a way to propose, like now,' " she said. "Hogi Yogi flashed through my mind. I figured if the guy told me no, I'd just slip him a $20 bill."

We capped it off by putting up the Christmas Tree. Our tree is sort of the opposite of all the shiny pretty coordinated trees you see at the mall and on TV. We use bright gaudy colored lights and nearly all the hundreds of decorations are either things the girls have made or things we have picked up on family trips. So every time we decorate the tree it is truly a walk down memory lane.

We have the crumpled paper snowmen, and the instant pictures surrounded by glitter. There are a herd of the stain glass melted ornaments that are a hodge podge of colors - not the orderly approach on the cover of the box - because the girls were far too anxious to get them stuck in oven and watch them melt. We have a slew of decorated paper cup "jingle bells" and plastic key chains with pictures inside. It is a great way to memorialize all the Christmas's past.

My favorite is a small nativity set with baby Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. They are made out of some kind of purple and brown clay. I remember a few years ago that I found Mabel up on chair next to the tree moving ornaments around. I asked her what she was doing. "I am putting the Mommy next to the baby. Baby Jesus needs his mommy." Evidently during the putting up of the ornaments someone had separated the mommy and Baby Jesus and Mabel was concerned that they were not together. I can't recall if she was equally concerned about the daddy.